Strands of Red Hair
by callosum
Summary: A collection of one-shots featuring Red-Hair Shanks. #15 Sword - Zoro gets a visitor on Kuraigana Island with an offer he can't resist. Or, my theory of the Eye, and Zoro's newfound love of fishing.
1. Just not the same, Theme: Hat, K

******Title:**Just not the same  
******Theme: **Set #1 - Hat  
******Claim:**Shanks  
******Words: **197  
******Rating:** K  
******Disclaimers:**I don't own One Piece.

* * *

"Sombrero?"

"Won't fit through your cabin door."

"Beret?"

"You're a ___pirate_."

"Ooh, look at this! Top hat!"

"You're a goddamned PIRATE!"

"Fez?"

"You're from ___West Blue_."

"This one has a ___tail_!"

"What are you, a dog?"

Shanks gasped when he rounded the corner in the store and found a whole rack of straw hats. "Benn, look at this! This is awesome!"

Benn just sighed and folded his arms, waiting for the inevitable. He watched as Shanks snatched up hat after hat in great anticipation and placed each on his head, only to put it back on the shelf a moment later, each time with a palpable air of disappointment.

Finally all the hats had been tried and discarded, and Shanks stared at the shelf of rejects for few seconds, before saying wistfully, "It's just not the same, is it?"

"No, it's not," Benn agreed.

Shanks sighed. "I guess I should just wait for Luffy to return Hat then, huh?"

"_Yes_," Benn sighed in relief. "Yes, you ___should_."

Waiting for his captain to figure out the obvious could be trying at times, but at least he always got there in the end.


	2. A time for tears, Theme: Tears, K

******Title:**A Time for Tears  
******Theme:**Set #1 - Tears  
******Claim:**Shanks  
******Words:**284  
******Rating: **PG  
******Warnings:**Maybe OOC, maybe not. It's getting a bit late to tell :-P  
******Disclaimers: **I don't own One Piece.

* * *

When Luffy stares up at him, eyes filled with tears of guilt and relief, he doesn't respond with tears but with words of gentleness, knowing that's what the kid needs to hear right now. ___Grown men don't cry_, he tells him, repeating it like a mantra, over and over again, to the point where he wonders whether he's reciting it for Luffy's benefit, or for his own.

He shrugs away the concerned cries of Makino and the rest of the crew, quickly learning that any and all shrugging from this point forward will be performed with one shoulder only, because it goddamned ___hurts_! But he grits his teeth and even manages a grin, because the pain is so worth it.

The fact that Luffy's still watching may have a tiny bit to do with it, too.

After the surgery, he braces himself for a private talk with his first mate, during which he outlines what this new state of being means, for him, for the two of them, for the crew. No more World's Greatest Swordsman. No more Grand Line. No more Red-Haired Pirates. Goodbye, Captain Shanks, hello, Captain Beckman. It takes all his will, but somehow, he makes it through his carefully-rehearsed speech without letting the tears come.

They only come when Benn calls him an ass, kicks his ass, and swears he'll kick his idiot ___captain's _ass to the end of the Grand Line if he ever dares to suggest anything so ridiculous ever again. It's only then that he allows himself to crumple into the arms of his first mate and let the tears flow and flow and flow.

* * *

As always, let me know what you think!


	3. Hide and seek, Theme: Smoke, K plus

**Title:** Hide and Seek  
******Theme: **Set #1 - Smoke  
******Claim: **Shanks  
******Words: **529  
******Rating: **K+  
******Disclaimers: **I don't own One Piece.

* * *

Benn is, in many ways, the perfect first mate. Shanks knew that from the beginning, of course, otherwise he wouldn't have chosen him. He's about as close to Silvers Rayleigh as a man can get without actually ___being _Silvers Rayleigh.

But Benn isn't 100% perfect, which is great, because it would be hard to tease a perfect man, and Shanks loves to tease.

So, issue number one. Benn smokes like a chimney. Shanks hadn't thought this was a problem when they first met, but that was before he found out just how much of a chain smoker Benn really is. Shanks makes it a policy never to interfere with the personal lives and habits of the crew, but he realises that if they're going to be a team for years to come, he'll need Benn to indulge his deadly habit a little less.

Stealing and hiding his first mate's cigarettes probably isn't how Roger would have handled the situation, but it's Shanks' way, and it's fun!

It would be a lot more fun if it weren't for issue number two.

Benn is ___way _too smart, and his intelligence carries over directly to this game of cigarette hide-and-seek. It's never taken him more than five tries to find his smokes, and often takes fewer than that, no matter who Shanks presses into hiding the pack for him. The man's positively uncanny.

But that's all in the past, because he's thought of the last place Benn will ever look. Shanks takes the pack of cigarettes and, with a mischievous wink to the crew who happen to be on deck, pops it ___into his pants_.

The crew quickly silence their sniggering when Benn arrives on deck, ostensibly so as not to give him any clues as to the cigarettes' unusual hiding place, though Benn's sweeping, withering glare certainly plays its part.

An empty barrel is the first thing Benn tries. Shanks has to stifle his giggles at such an obviously unimaginative choice of hiding place. That's one.

Next to receive his attention is the hem of the sail. Benn must be losing his touch, Shanks thinks - that was the hiding-place he used three rounds ago. That's two.

Three and four are the barrels of the port and starboard cannons respectively. By this time, Shanks can barely contain his glee at having fooled Benn for so long.

Then Benn straightens up and turns his gaze on Shanks. Shanks meets it with a friendly wave. "Lost something, Benn?"

Benn sighs. "You ___didn't_."

"Didn't what?" Shanks asks innocently.

Benn just strides up to Shanks, rolling up his sleeves, the look on his face somewhere between ___I can't believe I have to do this _and ___What an ass I have for a captain_.

Everyone decides they're never going to hide Benn's cigarettes for Shanks again.

Everyone except Shanks. After a short mourning period for the loss of his wonderfully electric pink-and-orange checked pants, he's back to his old tricks.

This time, he's going for six.

* * *

**A/N: **I think Benn secretly enjoys these games of hide-and-seek, otherwise he wouldn't let Shanks keep on stealing his ciggies :-P


	4. Homewrecker, Theme: Slingshot, K plus

******Title:**Homewrecker  
******Theme: **Set #1 - Slingshot  
******Claim:**Shanks  
******Words:**396  
******Rating:** K+  
******Warnings:**Slightly out of sync with the canon timeline.  
******Disclaimers:**I don't own One Piece.

* * *

"You sure about this, Yasopp?" He's nervous now, wishes he hadn't spouted all that glowing nonsense about the life of a pirate - well, it wasn't nonsense, being a pirate really ___is _the life. But still, he wishes he hadn't talked the man into going out to sea - well, that's not true either, he's ___glad _he has a nakama now, and if the man's shooting abilities are half what everyone says they are, he's the best sniper in the world.

But, dammit, a wife and child? He hadn't expected that. He hadn't known he was talking a man into giving ___that _up. He's going to be the man's captain, he's responsible for him now, which means he's responsible for talking a family out of a husband and father.

Oh shit.

That's his problem, right there. He talks way too much. He makes a mental note to find a first mate who'll know when and how to shut him up, and ___soon_.

"Yes, captain, I'm sure," Yasopp replies softly, and Shanks doesn't know whether to give in to the thrill at hearing himself called that, or the guilt trip at the implications of the word. Guilt trip, he decides, when he follows Yasopp's gaze to the cradle in the corner, where a curly-haired baby with an improbably long nose gurgles happily as he plays with a tiny slingshot.

"But you'll want to teach him things," Shanks argues. "He's just a baby. Maybe in a few years..."

"He won't need to be taught marksmanship," Yasopp replies, a note of pride in his voice. "He'll just ___know_." He catches the pang of guilt on his new captain's face and reassures him, "I've always known this day would come. I've resisted the call of the sea all my life, always told myself it was calling to some other damn fool, but now that it's asked for me, personally..." His dreamy voice trails off as his wife steps into the room, and he opens his mouth to tell her the news, his brow furrowed with regret.

Shanks decides it's best not to stick around for the revelation. He bows apologetically towards Banchina and slinks away, feeling like the biggest asshole in the world.

* * *

**A/N:** Shanks actually meets Yasopp before Usopp is born, according to the timeline given in Chapter 0, but I only found that out after I wrote this. Oh well, let's just call this Alternative Timeline...

As always, feedback is very welcome.


	5. Cheats, Theme: Devil Fruit, K

******Title:**Cheats  
******Theme: **Set #1 - Devil Fruit  
******Claim:**Shanks  
******Words: **405  
******Rating:**G  
******Disclaimers: **I don't own One Piece.

* * *

Devil's Fruits are cheats. Shanks knows that only too well. There are several Devil's Fruit users on board the Oro Jackson, and he sees their supernatural abilities everyday. Devil's Fruits cheat the world of its natural order, violating the basic laws on which the universe runs. They cheat ___people _of their natural order, increasing a man's fighting strength ten times overnight when it should take ten years of hard training to achieve that same increase in power.

It really doesn't bother Shanks that he can't defeat Buggy with his sword anymore, now that that clown can just split this way and that and have Shanks' sword pass right through him. That kind of cheating he can live with.

What he ___can't _stand is what that Devil's Fruit cheated Buggy of. The ability to swim, to leap to the safety of the sea from a burning ship if needs be. It's made Buggy stronger, yes, but it's also made him more vulnerable.

And then there's the other kind of swimming, the leisurely paddling in the cool waters of a lagoon, watching the sun go down in the far-off horizon at the end of a perfect day of pirating, that Buggy can't enjoy anymore. One of the few things that he and Shanks could actually agree was fun, and would actually stop quarrelling long enough to enjoy together. Now it's cheated them of that, too. They've been growing apart for years now, and this just pushes them further.

Shanks ___hates _Devil's Fruits.

So when he sees the Devil's Fruit in the loot from the Red-Haired Pirates' latest raid years later, he quickly claims it for his own before it can cheat someone else out of the freedom of the sea, tucking it into a box and carrying it around with him for safekeeping until it can be properly disposed of.

Only to be foiled by the itchy fingers and hungry eyes of a seven-year-old boy.

Luffy declares that it doesn't matter that he can't swim anymore, he'll just become a pirate who'll never fall into the sea.

Shanks looks at Luffy and seriously doubts that plan will ever work.

He can only pray that the kid finds a crew patient enough and indulgent enough to rescue him whenever he falls.

Stupid Devil's Fruits.

* * *

**A/N:** I enjoy writing introspective pieces once in a while...

As always, do let me know what you think. :-)


	6. Monkey, Theme: Pet, K

******Title: **Monkey!  
******Theme:**Set #1 - Pet  
******Claim:**Shanks  
******Words:**339  
******Rating:**K  
******Disclaimers:**I don't own One Piece.

* * *

Keeping the monkey was never part of the plan, but when it begins following the crew around the jungle like a shadow, sidling up to their campfire and slipping into the crew's sleeping bags in the middle of the night, it becomes inevitable.

"Aww, he's so cute, captain, can we keep him?" It's not the first time the request has been made.

Shanks makes a show of reluctance and demands the monkey for inspection. Immediately it hops into his arms and makes itself at home.

"See, he likes you, cap'n!" They can all see their captain melting before their eyes before the sheer irresistible adorable-ness of the monkey.

"You ___know _it'll probably interfere with everybody's work and make a mess everywhere it goes." Benn is, as ever, the voice of reason.

Shanks doesn't listen much to the voice of reason. "He's so cute! Let's keep him!"

Benn just sighs like he expected this to happen from the very beginning, which he probably did, and mutters something about appointing a responsible crewmember to actually take care of the damned thing, ___if _such a person actually exists among the Red-Haired Pirates, but Shanks has something far more important on his mind.

"What'll we name him?"

The suggestions come fast and furious. "Drumstick!" "Hanuman." "Mojopp!" "George!" "Mr. Bananas!"

The names blur into each other in Shanks' mind, as the monkey looks up at him curiously and innocently, and he remembers a little kid who once looked at him that exact same way and behaved that exact same way, latching himself onto his crew at Windmill Village and following them around like a shadow. Everyone stops, because they can see their suggestions are going in one ear and out the other, and if that beatific smile is anything to go by, the monkey already has a name.

"Well, Cap'n? What's it gonna be called? Not 'Luffy', I hope?" Benn asks.

A second later, he's grinding a fist into his forehead, and concluding that his captain is, in fact, an utterly hopeless git.

**

* * *

**

Unlike Monkey D Luffy, though, Luffy the monkey doesn't turn out so cute when it grows up :-P (for reference, look at the crew member list on the Red-Haired Pirates page on the One Piece wiki).

Thank you for all the reviews so far, and I'd love to hear what you think of this one!


	7. Tit for tat, Theme: Mother, T

******Title: **Tit for tat  
******Theme: **Set #1 - Mother  
******Claim:**Shanks  
******Words: **199  
******Rating:**T  
******Warnings: **One bad word with unpleasant connotations? I guess?  
******Disclaimers:**I don't own One Piece.

* * *

"I don't believe this," Shanks groaned. "You...and ___Shakky_?" It was like finding his best friend in bed with his ___mom_.

"What's there not to believe?" Benn asked calmly. "We have a lot in common. We like to read, we both smoke..."

"But she's old enough to be your ___mother_!" Shanks protested. In some ways, she practically ___was _Shanks' mother...

"It's not like the age difference matters. And she looks even younger than me. Don't you, my dear?" Benn looked up with a smile as Shakky came through the doors that led to the kitchen behind the bar, draping her arms around his neck and giving him a peck on the cheek.

Shanks gibbered at them incomprehensibly for a moment, then keeled backwards in a dead faint.

"Oh my," Shakky said, an enigmatic smile on her face as she unwrapped her arms from around Benn and went to examine Shanks, who appeared to be frothing at the mouth. "He really fell for it, didn't he?"

Benn merely took out his notebook, flipped the page to "Stratagems for Revenge, Category: Mindfuck", licked his tip of his pencil and put a satisfied checkmark against #392.

* * *

******A/N: **Not sure what Shanks did to deserve this... It's just a joke here, but I think Benn x Shakky would make a great pair :-) As usual, let me know what you think! :-D


	8. Birthday Clowns, Theme: Clown, K

******Title:**Birthday Clowns  
******Theme:**Set #1 - Clown  
******Claim:**Shanks  
******Words:**652  
******Rating:**K  
******Disclaimers:**I don't own One Piece.

* * *

Buggy stumbled blearily out of his hammock, blinking at the unaccustomed light streaming in through the porthole. It was really unusual for that flashy bastard Shanks to actually let him sleep in. Maybe he'd drunk too much last night or something. Funny thing was, Buggy didn't remember there being a party. And yet he seemed to recall them picking up a larger supply of rum than usual when they stopped in at that island yesterday. It seemed odd that the crew hadn't taken advantage of that last night.

Ah well. Buggy wasn't given to thinking too much this early in the morning. The crew could drink when they wanted and abstain when they wanted, as far as Buggy was concerned...

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY BUGGY!"

Buggy's eyes bugged out as he gazed around the deck of the Oro Jackson at his grinning nakama. His birthday? Even ___he_hadn't remembered it was his birthday! Who the hell had told them it was his birthday?

And then he realised something even stranger. Every last one of his nakama seemed to have grown a large red nose overnight.

"How...why...who...?" he stammered.

"You're always so self-conscious about your nose, Buggy, so we decided today you wouldn't have to be," Shanks explained, a huge smile on his face.

Buggy's lower lip quivered for a moment as he was assaulted by a warm fuzzy feeling of ___belonging_, biting down hard as he demanded, "Who did you say has a big nose? This is the worst birthday present in the world, you flashy bastards!"

Rayleigh watched indulgently as the two apprentice pirates began wrestling each other to the deck, deciding to let them duke it out for once instead of summarily putting down the fight. His red rubber ball-with-a-slit-in-it chose that moment to leap off his nose, and he gingerly adjusted it back, asking aloud, "So, how exactly did we let Shanks talk us into doing this, again?"

Roger just laughed his rich, vibrant laugh in response, and Rayleigh shrugged. If Roger didn't mind them looking like a ship of clowns, he supposed he could tolerate it.

And tolerate it he did, for the two full hours of partying they managed to squeeze in before Whitebeard suddenly turned up.

It was the most memorable meeting the two pirate gangs ever had.

(The looks on the Whitebeard Pirates' faces cracked them all up.)

It was the most memorable birthday Buggy ever had.

(Especially the bit when Shanks infiltrated Whitebeard's flagship and offered a rubber nose to the great man himself.)

It was the most memorable escape from Rayleigh's wrath Shanks ever had.

(When Whitebeard just laughed and accepted it, saying he wouldn't mind helping to celebrate a birthday.)

The day culminated in an epic post-battle/birthday party, at the end of which Shanks went around with a big bag, collecting the red noses, eliciting a huge laugh when he tried to extract Buggy's from his face as well.

"It's all right for you guys, you're not stuck behind a big red nose every day of the year," Buggy grumbled, too mellowed out by the excess alcohol to make his usual self-defensive fuss.

"Hey, it's not like I'm gonna toss these things overboard, you know. We'll bust them out again next year!" Shanks promised.

"Is that so?" Rayleigh said, making one of his sudden noiseless appearances out of the dark, quirking an eyebrow.

Shanks gulped at the remembrance of the long list of chores he'd been assigned after his reckless little adventure on Whitebeard's ship. "Well, ___I__'ll _wear mine again next year," he amended, slinging an arm around Buggy. "And every birthday after that, so long as we're nakama."

Buggy would never forget to anticipate becoming a year older again.

**

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**

**A/N:** Hmm, I made Rayleigh rather humourless in this one...I'm sorry.

Thanks for all your awesome reviews so far, everyone! And as always, do let me know what you think of it! :-)


	9. Night into day, Theme: Punishment, Kplus

******Title:**Night into day  
******Theme: **Set #1 - Punishment  
******Claim:**Shanks  
******Words:**1911  
******Rating:** K+  
******Disclaimers:**I don't own One Piece.

* * *

Ordinarily, Benn would never have chosen to come to this island of all islands and its village of puritanical prudes who hated music, hated dancing, hated laughter, hated ___fun _- who were, in short, the very antithesis of everything the Red-Haired Pirates stood for. But they desperately needed to take on more supplies after three days of impromptu partying in which Lucky Roo had shown himself to be in fine eating form. So he contented himself with a very stern lecture to the crew, telling them the history of the town and warning them of the necessity of conducting themselves with propriety on the island - in other words, ___shut up and behave yourselves _- and sent them off on their various errands.

He didn't bother to repeat the lecture to Shanks, knowing he was in bed nursing a bad hangover.

What he hadn't counted on, was his captain overhearing it anyway and hopping overboard with a bottle of grog in hand the moment Benn's back was turned.

Yasopp was the first to return to the ship with his assigned supplies at dusk, bearing news of his captain's latest predicament. It was hard to figure out what exactly had happened when Yasopp kept being overcome by giggles, but eventually Benn made out that Shanks had been arrested for drunken disorderliness and put in the village stocks.

Benn muttered something rude about people who didn't know how to protect the dignity of a ship's captain and a Yonkou, and strode off into town, leaving Yasopp behind to guard the ship.

It didn't take long to find his captain. Shanks knew how to make a scene, and Benn navigated the drab, colourless streets with ease, heading all the while in the direction of the greatest noise. He found his captain in the village square, trapped in the stocks as Yasopp had reported, apparently having the time of his life. It was lucky, Benn thought, that the villagers' idea of fun seemed to preclude the throwing of rotten vegetables and whippings and whatever other punishments were usually meted out along with the stocks. Instead, they looked utterly nonplussed at Shanks' lack of contrition, and were staring open-mouthed as he slurred his way through a vague approximation of a pirate ditty, so vague Benn could hardly call it music.

Shanks caught sight of Benn, and waved his one trapped hand. Benn wondered what the villagers' reactions had been when they tried to clap his empty shirtsleeve in the stocks. "Hello, Benn! You here to take over my watch?" Shanks asked, and burst into peals of infectious laughter, as if he'd just made a really good joke.

Benn rubbed his eyes tiredly, pondering whether to break through the stocks and carry his captain home to sleep it off, or surrender to the temptation to just leave him here till he'd sobered up and maybe, just maybe, learned a lesson.

That was when the magic happened.

A little girl giggled, releasing a trill of laughter that seemed to breathe life into this staid, oppressive little town. Immediately the atmosphere seemed less thick, the dull buildings seemed to brighten, even the villagers' faces seemed to lose some of their dourness. The girl laughed and laughed, Shanks laughing with her, and Benn could see some of the villagers beginning to join in, children and grown-ups alike, to the evident displeasure of a village elder, an old man who barked, "Quiet, girl!" as he hobbled towards her and raised his walking stick to strike -

Only to see the stick glance across Benn's shoulders as he dove in to intercept the blow, and then to cower as Benn stretched himself to his full, imposing height and confiscated the walking stick.

"She's just a little girl, and there's ___nothing _wrong with laughing," Benn growled, glaring at the man. Then his voice went gentle as he turned to the girl and asked, "All right, there?"

She nodded back, eyes wide in fear, and Benn gave her a pat on the head, then cast a brief glance about him, taking in the rest of the crew dotted about the square, strategically positioned to fight or flee as the captain ordered. Even Yasopp was there, poised on a roof-top, ready to fire at Shanks' or Benn's signal. Benn looked back at his captain, and a look passed between them - of concern and reassurance, gratitude and dismissal. Benn shook his head when he realised the look in Shanks' eyes was completely lucid, reproaching himself for not sensing his captain's intentions earlier.

Not that he was a mind-reader, dammit. And Shanks always had been the most unpredictable of men. Benn watched as his captain's eyes did their own sweep of the murmuring crowd, gauging their mood in an instant, identifying who was on his side and who wasn't. This ability of Shanks' always amazed him, how he could throw himself into a chaotic situation and calm it in an instant. There was also his ability to throw himself into a perfectly peaceable situation and turn that upside down in an instant, but that was hardly a talent to be proud of, in Benn's opinion.

And though he wasn't a mind-reader, there was no question of what Shanks was going to do now, as he shot a meaningful glance towards Benn and his men, and they nodded slowly in response. The gesture was obvious even to the villagers, and the tension in the square rose dramatically.

Benn devoutly hoped that Shanks' judgment would be right, as it always was.

If it wasn't, at least the village didn't have enough sets of stocks to clap the whole crew in, Benn reflected, as Shanks began and the crew joined in a hearty rendition of Bink's Sake.

The villagers looked stunned at the unexpected and unaccustomed sound, but gradually the tension dissolved and their faces brightened as the happy tune caught them up in its joyous strains. The little girl began clapping in time with the music. For someone who had never heard a note of music in her life, she had a good sense of rhythm. She beamed up at him, and Benn saw a familiar look in her eyes, an eagerness to learn, to explore this vast new world they'd just opened up for her.

Being first mate to a man like Shanks meant Benn had had to wear many different hats in the past. He was a protector for the crew, a custodian who cleaned up after Shanks' messes, a counsellor who imparted wise advice...he was all this and more, and now he had a new role to learn.

He'd never thought of becoming a music teacher, but then he'd never expected to become a pirate either, until that day when destiny decided to cross his and Shanks' paths.

Benn shrugged at fate's latest whimsical use for him, sat down on the ground and began teaching the girl the basics of music theory.

.

Dawn found the Red-Haired Pirates staggering back to their ship in an even greater state of inebriation and revelry-induced exhaustion than they'd sailed in with, if that was at all possible.

"Next time you take it into your head to change the hearts and minds of a people, at least choose a more dignified strategy," Benn was admonishing, the only one of the crew not to look the least bit worse for wear after the long night. "And tell me ___beforehand_!"

"It was kinda fun though! I've never been in stocks before! And we all had a great time, didn't we?" Shanks protested. "Well, except for Benn getting injured, that is," he added, inflecting his usual carefree tone with a note of apology.

Benn shrugged. "It was nothing, cap'n."

"Nothing? Really?" Shanks clapped Benn on the back, getting the expected wince in return. "Better have Doc look at that later. No, Benn." Shanks wagged his finger playfully when Benn rolled his eyes. "_Captain's orders_."

Benn grimaced, and Shanks grinned.

And grinned.

And grinned.

"_What_?" Benn snapped, when he couldn't take it anymore.

"You're a real softie, Benn, you know that?" Shanks teased.

"Am not," Benn grunted.

"Are too," Shanks riposted.

"Am ___not_."

"Are _too_."

Benn decided he had nothing to gain by continuing this game of childish repartee. But when his silence was met with more, highly uncharacteristic, silence, he risked a glance at his captain. Surprisingly, Shanks wasn't gloating over his win; instead, he had a wistful look on his face, and was clutching his empty left sleeve in a gesture Benn hadn't seen for a very long time.

Benn snorted. "This is ___nothing _like that."

Shanks looked slightly startled at having been caught. "Whaddaya mean? It's exactly the same!"

"Yeah, like a welt across my back is the same as having your arm bitten clean off."

If the memory of that moment passed through Shanks' mind at all, he didn't flinch at it. "Our ___intentions_were the same," he grinned.

"_Possibly_," Benn allowed. He glanced back at the village, so different now as it basked in the orange rays of the rising sun. "Well, I can't say much for your tactics, but it worked. You gave them the most fun they've had in years. You showed them what it means to live."

"You mean ___we_, Benn, _we_. We're a team, remember?" Shanks flung a friendly arm around his first mate.

"Ow! Dammit, cap'n, that goddamn ___hurts_!" Benn complained, as he began organising the crew to load up the supplies on the Red Force.

The task was done quickly and efficiently, despite everyone's hangovers, and soon Shanks was ordering, "Raise anchor and unfurl the sail! We're off!"

"Aye!" the crew responded, rushing to their respective stations, and soon the ship was cruising smoothly out of the harbour.

Benn glanced backwards. "Looks like we have a send-off party, cap'n," he noted, nodding towards the shore, where the majority of the villagers had gathered to give the crew a fond farewell.

Shanks bounded over to the stern of the ship and waved enthusiastically. "Have fun, you guys!" he shouted. Benn watched with a twinge of amusement as the rest of the crew joined him in shouting their encouragement and goodbyes.

"Oi, Benn! C'mere!" Shanks yelled. "There's a special someone wants to say bye to you!"

Benn reluctantly made his way over to his captain's side, and Shanks pointed out the little girl, who waved twice as furiously when Benn came within view. Benn felt a smile tug at his cheeks as he lifted a hand to wave back.

"See? Told you you were a softie," Shanks said knowingly.

"I am ___not_!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

On that note, they sailed off into the rising sun, content in the knowledge they were leaving a very different, and happier, island behind them.

Then again, Benn thought, no town was ever quite the same after an encounter with Shanks and the Red-Haired Pirates.

* * *

**A/N:** Hmm. This didn't turn out quite the way I wanted it to but I don't really know how to fix it. Ah well! As always, do let me know what you think!


	10. Thoughts inspired by a new rival,Thief,K

******Title: **Thoughts inspired by a new rival  
******Theme: **Set #1 - Thief  
******Claim: **Shanks  
******Words: **363  
******Rating: **K  
******Disclaimers:**I don't own One Piece.

* * *

Dracule Mihawk hated Monkey D Luffy long before he ever set his eyes on him, or even learned his name. From the moment he laid eyes on Shanks' bare sleeve, he'd considered him nothing more than a thief, who had the temerity to steal an arm from Shanks - the arm of a ___swordsman_. Who had the nerve to steal his greatest rival from him. Who had the sheer gall to steal the honour of duelling for the title of World's Greatest Swordsman and simply thrust it upon him by default.

He'd hated Shanks too. For offering up nothing more than a shrug of apology and that annoying easy smile. The smile that he always wore whenever they duelled, as if fighting him - ___him_, Dracule Mihawk - was akin to a mere stroll in the park. The smile that said he cared more about the life of some brat from East Blue than his swordsmanship, which should have been his whole life, but never was and never would be.

The smile he's reminded of now, as that brat grins at the Roronoa boy and accepts his oath never to lose again until he's defeated Mihawk. A familiar tingle races up his spine, the tingle that tells him he's met a worthy rival.

He can feel the fates winking at him, boasting of their cleverness in arranging that the brat who stole away his rival all those years ago should gift him another in exchange. The Roronoa boy may be brash and weak, but he has the spirit of a true swordsman, and brashness and weakness are nothing the Grand Line won't cure.

"You make a good team," he remarks. "We'll meet again." ___And you'd better take care of the Roronoa boy, brat, because if I ever find out you've stolen another rival from me, I'll slice you in two myself._

On that parting note, he sets off back to the Grand Line, to tell Shanks the news and to see that teasing smile once more. And maybe, to tell him that though he'll still never forgive him, he understands at last.


	11. Deciding Factors, Theme: Barrel, Kplus

**Title:** Deciding Factors  
**Theme:** Set #1 - Barrel  
**Claim:** Shanks  
**Words:** 1326  
**Rating:** K+  
**Disclaimers:** I don't own One Piece.  
**Timeline:** This takes place during one of the Red-Haired Pirates' first few sojourns at Windmill Village.

* * *

"Excuse me, Makino-san?"

Makino looked up from the piles of dirty plates she'd been slaving over for the past half-hour and over her shoulder at the easily recognisable figure of the Red-Haired Pirates' first mate blocking most of the light in the doorway. "Vice-Captain-san!" She hurriedly dried her hands on her apron, asking, "What can I do for you?"

Benn put up his hands in a self-deprecating gesture before she could come out from behind the bar. "Please don't let me keep you from your work, Makino-san. I'm sorry we cause you so much trouble."

"No trouble at all," Makino said cheerily. "Please don't apologise for being such generous customers! Besides, Captain-san always takes Luffy out from under my feet when you're in town, which makes my work go so much faster!"

"I can imagine," Benn said, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "That's actually what I came to ask - have you seen the captain anywhere?"

"Yes! He and Luffy borrowed a barrel and said they were going up the mountain."

The perpetual furrow in Benn's forehead creased itself further. "A _barrel_?" he repeated.

"Yes, an empty barrel. I'm not really sure what it was for, but they seemed very excited," Makino said. "Luffy's really taken a shine to Captain-san, hasn't he?"

"I would put it the other way round," Benn said dryly. "It isn't often the captain finds a playmate of the same mental age."

Makino burst into a series of very lady-like giggles that were carefully hidden behind one hand. "Are you sure he doesn't mind you saying things like that about him behind his back, Vice-Captain-san?"

"No, so you should stop being so polite to him and start ordering him around a little," Benn told her with a grin. "For example, if you need any help with those dishes, I'm sure he'll be more than willing."

"Oh, I couldn't possibly put my best customers to work!" Makino laughed. "But I'll keep that in mind."

Benn gave her a quick tug of the forelock, thanked her for the information, and made his way up the path that he knew would gradually enter the woods of Mt. Corbo and meander its way all the way to its summit. He looked around in appreciation at the pretty countryside. Windmill Village had a lot going for it as a possible base for the crew - a naturally deep harbour, pleasant people (once they got over their initial, understandable fear of the pirates)...but the fact that this was, after all, part of the kingdom of Goa was a strong negative. And then there were the mountain bandits...Benn hoped that his captain had taken in at least _something_ of his warnings about them and not go _too_ deep into the woods, although he supposed that if anything did happen, Shanks would be able to fight them off with his sword.

And the barrel.

A _barrel_. What on earth could Shanks and Luffy possibly be doing with a _barrel_...

As if on cue, a large round brown object chose that moment to roll down the mountain a few metres away from Benn.

He watched it open-mouthed, belatedly realising that the howls of laughter he could hear were coming from _inside_ the barrel. He took a quick look back up the mountain, his eyes following the trail of flattened grass to a figure wearing a straw hat, jumping up and down excitedly.

Which meant...

_Dammit, cap'n, you're going to get that kid killed!_ Benn sprang into action, racing down the hill after the barrel. Closer...almost there...

And then the barrel bumped off a rock and turned in what was almost a right angle. It took Benn a few precious seconds to curb his forward momentum and change direction, by which time the barrel was already bouncing merrily down the mountain, towards...

His eyes widened when he realised that both he and the barrel were headed to a sheer drop off the cliff into the sea below. He skidded to a stop, watching as the barrel arced through the air, yelling a cheerful "Yahooooooooooooooo!" before it plunged into the sea.

"Dammit! Luffy!" Benn swore, looking right and left for a path down the cliff, keeping an eye on the barrel as it breached the surface of the sea, hoping that the kid inside hadn't been battered too badly by the impact, and if so, that he wouldn't take it into his head to try and get out on his own, since he - and everyone else on the crew - knew perfectly well that the "anchor" was called that for a reason. "Stay in the barrel! Can you hear me, Luffy?"

"Yeah, I can hear you!"

Benn stopped short when he realised the boy's voice hadn't come from the barrel, but from right beside him. He looked down and to the left at the crown of a straw hat, sitting on the head of a much shorter "Shanks".

Oh.

He should have guessed. That excited laughter _had_ sounded rather low-pitched for a child of six, now that he stopped to think about it. And a tad too familiar.

"I never knew barrels could even _do_ that!" Luffy said, eyes round as he watched it bobbing on the water.

Benn heaved a sigh of relief and sat himself down on a convenient rock, pulling out a cigarette as Shanks kicked the lid of the barrel open and swam towards shore, dragging the barrel with him.

"Shanks! That was awesome! Can I go next?"

"Sure, Luffy." Shanks ruffled the boy's hair and looked squarely at Benn.

Benn opened his mouth to chastise his captain, but Shanks beat him to the punch, smirking slyly at him. "I heard that, you know."

Benn quirked an eyebrow at him. "Heard _what_?"

"You were concerned for the anchor, weren't you?" He gave Benn a painful nudge in the ribs, and Benn shot him a glare, followed by a quick glance at the kid in question. Thankfully, Luffy seemed to have forgotten his new nickname and was curiously inspecting the magic barrel for evidence of this invisible anchor. He resolved never to over-react to any danger the kid might be in ever again. Not so obviously, anyway.

"I most certainly was _not_..."

"Let's go! C'mon, Shanks! You said I could go next!" Luffy was already dragging the barrel behind him.

"No, Luffy," Makino said sternly, "you _can't_."

"Whaaa - ? But _Makino_..." Luffy was the first to recover from her sudden appearance. The two men took a while longer, startled by the look on Makino's face, which was miles away from the demure barkeep's usual cheery expression and more akin to...Benn couldn't quite characterise it in words, but for some reason the image of the protective mother bear he'd once met hiking the forests of Mt. Corbo came to mind.

"What were you _thinking_? You could have gotten yourself killed!" Makino scolded.

"I...er..." Shanks rubbed his head, looking extremely sheepish. Benn looked on in great amusement.

"Come on, the two of you, back to the bar. There's work to be done."

"But why?" Luffy pouted.

"Idle hands are obviously the devil's workshop," Makino said sternly. "Since you have nothing better to do, you can help me with the dirty dishes."

"Why, of course we'll help, Makino-san," Shanks said immediately, taking his hat off Luffy's head and tipping it gallantly at Makino. "Won't we, Luffy?"

"Huh? But Shanks..."

"It'll be fun, Luffy! May I have the honour, Makino-san?" Shanks offered an arm to Makino, who took it, looking distinctly bemused, the wind taken entirely out of her sails by Shanks' ready acquiescence. "Shall we?"

"Okay!"

Benn stared for a moment after the three receding figures, then sat back down and lit his forgotten cigarette, thoughtful. Forget Goa. Forget mountain bandits. Having someone else around to keep the likes of Shanks out of trouble on land had just increased Windmill Village's attraction as a base tenfold.

* * *

**A/N:** It took me about six weeks to write the last few paragraphs :-P Anyway, I would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter, especially after such a long break from writing Shanks! (Makino may be a tad OOC as well...)


	12. Kids These Days, Theme: Cook, Kplus

I had more fic ideas for Windmill Village, but I haven't had any time to write them, and probably won't for a while, so I decided to abandon trying to group them altogether. So! Here's one set post-Windmill Village that I wrote a while ago.

**Title:** Kids these days  
**Theme:** Set #1 - Cook  
**Claim:** Shanks  
**Words: **1858  
**Rating:** K+  
**Disclaimers:** I don't own One Piece.  
**A/N: ** Might contain a timeline fail, it's hard to tell. Also! Dedicated to **AllBlueChaser **on her birthday. Thanks for the inspiration!

* * *

"Are you sure this is a good idea, cap'n?" Benn asked as they stepped onto the deck of the floating restaurant. "This place is pretty new, I doubt they would have any established chefs other than the owner."

"We don't have much time before we enter the Grand Line," Shanks pointed out. "We need to get a cook _somehow_." As the only member of the crew with any personal knowledge of the vagaries of the Grand Line, he was for once the one most worried about their lack of such a crucial crew member. Everyone else was accustomed to the ease of life in East Blue, where there was always an island within a day's easy navigation, where they could stop, eat, load up supplies. "This is a floating restaurant, and I've heard the boss, Zeff, used to be a pirate himself. I'm sure we'll find someone suitable here!"

They made their way into the restaurant, sat down, quickly made a few choices from the menu, and looked around appreciatively.

"Too bad we couldn't bring Lucky, he'd have loved this," Shanks said wistfully.

"Look at the prices. We'd spend a year washing dishes here if we let Lucky loose on this place," Benn said. "Not to mention that any prospective cook we might hire will run for cover once he sees Lucky's appetite!" Lucky was the number one reason the Red-Haired Pirates had found it impossible so far to hold onto a cook.

"That's true. Anyway, Benn, here's the plan. The first dish that's marvellous, we ask the cook to come out here and tell him he can join the crew!"

Benn arched an eyebrow at his captain's rather simplistic "plan". "Don't you think we should interview him first?"

"It'll be fine!" Shanks enthused. "Look at that guy! He would fit right in on any pirate ship!" He pointed to a rather rough-and-ready cook with thick lips, a goatee and a large round earring in one earlobe.

"Okay, cap'n," Benn sighed, though he did wonder why a cook was serving. This place sure seemed short on waitstaff...

Despite that, their first dish arrived after only a couple of minutes, a pumpkin and ginger soup. Shanks took one sip and went to heaven. "Benn! This is the most awesome soup I've ever had!"

"It's all _right_..." Benn said, but he didn't try to restrain Shanks' enthusiasm, knowing that was close to impossible.

"Excuse me!" Shanks was already hailing the nearest waiter. "Can you fetch the chef who made this soup here?"

"Yes, sir!" The waiter disappeared through the double doors of the galley, as Shanks mused on his cook-to-be.

"I hope he's a good guy, who'll fit in well with the rest of the crew. If he works at a busy place like this, he ought to be able to manage Lucky's appetite..."

"Oi. Cap'n." Benn interrupted, pointing at a newcomer to the table. Shanks looked, and found a small, skinny blond boy standing next to him, one extremely curly eyebrow tightly furled as he gave them an unfriendly glare.

"You gotta problem with the food, old man?"

Benn could see Shanks mentally reel at being called an "old man". "Uh...I asked for the cook," Shanks said, a picture of confusion.

"Yeah, I'm the one who made that soup. You gotta problem with it?"

Shanks looked surprised for a moment, but quickly recovered his natural composure. "No, I thought it was really good, actually. My compliments to the chef."

The boy suddenly grinned. "Really? You think so? Can you tell the shit geezer that? He _never_ lets me cook for the guests normally, it's only because we're shorthanded 'cause half the cooks and the waiters are sick, including Carne, and he's the one who usually gets to prepare the soup when the shit geezer doesn't."

They listened in amusement as the boy chattered on about the special ingredients he had experimented with to make the soup, his single visible blue eye widening in his excitement, up until the moment a rolling pin landed on his head and a stern voice told him to get his little eggplant ass back in the kitchen. They watched in equal amusement as the man who was obviously the head chef, judging by his incredibly tall toque, chivvied the boy back to work, the boy turning and making frantic gestures at them to indicate that _this_ was the "shit geezer". Then the man walked - it was almost a hobble, with his peg-leg - back to their table, a frown on his face.

"Don't look now, but I think you've been recognised," Benn murmured.

"That's okay, he used to be a pirate himself anyway," Shanks shrugged, taking another generous swig of the Baratie's exceptionally fine house wine.

"I don't suppose you prepared a back-up plan for finding another cook?"

"We'll just ask someone else!" Shanks said, giving the chef a friendly grin as he approached the table.

"Red-Haired Shanks," Zeff greeted him grimly. "What brings the most notorious pirate of East Blue to my restaurant?"

"Don't worry," Shanks chuckled. "We're not here to make trouble."

Zeff snorted and folded his arms. "I'd like to see you try."

"We're here to recruit a new cook, y'see. We're off to the Grand Line," Shanks informed him cheerily.

"Don't you dare try and take away any of my cooks! We're shorthanded as it is! You can advertise in the newspaper, just like everybody else!"

"So much for Plan B," Benn muttered to himself, as Shanks was thwacked over the head with the chef's peg-leg.

"Ow, shit geezer..." That earned him a second thwack.

"Hmph." Zeff's brow furrowed as he looked at the younger pirate captain. "Why the Grand Line, anyway? You of all people should have had more than your fill of that accursed place."

Shanks smiled. "You seem to know a great deal about me, old man."

"I know that Red-Haired Shanks should have two arms, not one." Zeff nodded towards Shanks' left sleeve, which hung limply from the shoulder.

"And _I_ know that Red Leg Zeff is supposed to have two legs, not one," Shanks riposted smoothly, giving a significant glance at the peg-leg.

Zeff harrumphed, and glanced around at the galley doors, from which a small blond head was peeking out. His grim expression softened visibly, and Benn smiled as something seemed to dawn on Shanks about the nature of the man's sacrifice, as evidenced by the look of mutual commiseration and understanding he suddenly gave the chef.

"I have the feeling that you two will have a lot to chat about," he excused himself, standing up. "I'll have the rest of the meal to go, if you please."

"Hmm? Okay, Benn. Take something back for the rest of the crew too."

"Right, cap'n."

"And you can finish off the rest of your meal in our private dining room," Zeff said to Shanks, snapping his fingers for the waiters to get it ready.

Benn watched as both men made their way through the dining area, Shanks gesturing as he talked, with the animation Benn knew was reserved for discussing Luffy. _What a pair_, he thought, shaking his head.

Just what was it about kids these days, who inspired grown men, hardened pirates, to lose limbs on their behalf?

**...**

Shanks prepared to board the skiff that would take him back to his ship in a considerably better humour than before. He and Zeff had had a fine chat, talking about all manner of subjects under the sun. Grand Line. The pirates of old - rivals of Captain Roger. Luffy and that kid, Sanji. True, he had failed in his primary mission to recruit a cook, but Zeff had told him about the All East Battle Cooking Contest that was to take place a few days hence in Loguetown, and given him the names of some cooks to look out for, who might be persuaded to come on board as pirates.

He was about to step onto the skiff when he felt a tug on his shirt. "Oh, it's you," he said, looking at the trainee cook. "What d'you want?"

"Did you tell him, mister?" Shanks had to smile at that. Apparently giving a compliment meant you got upgraded from "old man" to "mister".

"Yup, I told him your soup was delicious."

"Really?" The boy's blue eye widened enthusiastically once more. "And what did the shit geezer say?"

"He said something must be wrong with my tastebuds." Shanks chuckled at the crushed look on the boy's face. "I guess you've gotta work harder, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess. Hey, mister! I heard that you've been in the Grand Line before."

"That's right, I have. What about it?"

"Did you see All Blue? It's a legendary sea where fish from all the four Blues swim! Did you see it? Is it in the Grand Line?"

"Hmm..." Shanks looked shrewdly at the eager boy. "Is that your dream, then? To find All Blue?"

"That's right! Someday I'm gonna find it!"

"Then it wouldn't be any fun if I told you where it is, would it?"

"Huh?" Sanji gave an indignant pout when he realised that Shanks was refusing to answer his question. "Hey! Don't be mean!"

"It'll make a better adventure not knowing whether it's there. Trust me." Shanks ruffled the boy's hair, and Sanji scowled and aimed a kick at him. Shanks swiftly caught his ankle mid-strike and hoisted him up into the air.

"Hey! Lemme down!" the boy protested, as he dangled from Shanks' hand.

"You _really_ need to train up more before you're ready for the Grand Line, kid. Put on a bit of weight, too. You're skinny as a rake."

"Lemme down!" Sanji insisted, wriggling desperately.

"Okay," Shanks said agreeably, and dropped the boy unceremoniously onto the deck.

Sanji picked himself up and scowled at the pirate. "I'm gonna show you! I'll become stronger! I'll become a great cook! And then I'm gonna go to the Grand Line and find All Blue!"

"Yeah? I'll be waiting to see that, then. Good luck, kiddo." Shanks ruffled the boy's head once more, and boarded the skiff.

The sea breeze blew through his red hair, and he brushed it out of his eyes, lamenting the absence of Hat. That kid could have used one...

"Bye, you shitty old meanie!" Sanji waved.

...Or not.

Shanks waved back, then fixed his eyes on the horizon and set out for his ship, his mood now turning pensive.

Just what was it about kids these days, and their impossible dreams?

Maybe this was the generation Captain Roger had been waiting for, Shanks mused. The world was changing, and these kids would be the ones to make it happen.

* * *

**A/N: **Hmm, Shanks sure gets around East Blue in my fics, doesn't he? XP (For those who haven't read my other fic, Thirty Sword Katas, Chapters 12-15 are a mini-arc in which Shanks makes an appearance.)

I know it's been a while since the last chapter, so thank you to my faithful readers for continuing to follow this little series. As always, feedback of any kind, including concrit, is very welcome.


	13. One kid, Theme: Axe, K plus

I actually have three of these to put up, which will be coming along in the next few week or so...

* * *

**Title: **One kid  
**Theme: **Axe  
**Claim: **Shanks  
**Words: **1075  
**Rating: **K+  
**Warnings: **A rather morbid conversation.  
**Disclaimer(s): **I don't own One Piece.  
**A/N: **Shanks may be a bit OOC here, but in his defence, he _is _rather young in this fic...

* * *

"Maybe they'll use an axe. Yeah...use an axe, an' chop off my head."

The bartender eyed the very drunk pirate captain slumped across his counter warily. He had heard his share of strange yarns in his time, but this wasn't the kind of conversation he was used to having with his customers. "Don't they usually use those long swords?" he asked cautiously.

"Nodachi? Yeah, but that's only at the most ceremonial executions. At the Marine bases they just use firing squads. That mightn't be too bad." Shanks hiccuped as he groped for the mug of ale sitting on the bar, downed it, and waved the empty vessel at the bartender for another. He hastily refilled it – this _was _one of the most famous pirates in the area, after all - though only halfway, in consideration of the man's inebriated state.

"They could hang me. Nasty way to go, hanging, if it isn't done right," Shanks informed the bartender.

"Quite, quite." The bartender looked around his otherwise-empty bar, desperately hoping for someone else to come in and give him an excuse to abandon this utterly depressing conversation.

"What about you? How'd you like to go?" Shanks' glazed eyes slid over to the bartender.

"I've...never really thought about it...ah! Welcome!" The bartender brightened up at the opening of the door. _Finally!_

Shanks swung around to examine the newcomer. "Benny! Come an' have a pint!"

"So _this _is where you've been hiding," Shanks' first mate scolded, marching up to the bar. "We've been looking all over for you! Has he been giving you any trouble?" he asked the bartender.

"Well, I..."

"We were havin' a philo- hic! philosophical conversation," Shanks protested.

"How many has he had?" Beckman sighed.

"Seventeen," the bartender confessed.

"_Only_?" Beckman frowned, and turned back to consider Shanks.

"Benny, if you were to be executed, which would you prefer - hanging, decap- decapitation, firing squad, or stabbing?" Shanks slurred.

Beckman's frown twisted further downwards. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Is he always like this when he's had one too many, sir?" the bartender inquired.

"No, never," Beckman said. "Unless..." He glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall. "_Oh._"

"What is it?"

"It's the anniversary of _that _day. C'mon, cap'n, we're going home."

"You hav'n't answered my question!"

"I'll tell you on the way back. Come on." Beckman tossed a few coins onto the counter, letting the size of the tip convey his apology, and put his arm around Shanks' shoulder to escort him out.

It was awkward going – what with Beckman's height, Shanks' feet couldn't quite find a purchase on the ground, but when Beckman tried letting him walk by himself, he swayed so alarmingly that Beckman had to step in hastily to steady him. "Can't you cooperate just _once _in your life?" Beckman demanded, his eyes sweeping the square in search of a bench or something where he could put his captain down and let him sober up. _Ah, over there..._

"I _am _co- cooperatin' - whoaaaaa!" Shanks yelled, before his cry was drowned in a loud splash. A few seconds passed before he was able to extricate himself from the water trough, coughing and spluttering and looking for revenge. "Benn, you _cur__! _You..."

"You know," Beckman interrupted, "we have _got _to figure out a better way to handle these anniversaries."

The expression on Shanks' face changed as he slumped down against the trough and gazed up at the clear, star-filled sky. "It's not like I was depressed or anything," he muttered, quietly defensive. "I was just having a drink!"

"You were discussing _methods of execution _with that poor barkeep!"

"Helps to be prepared, doesn't it? You never know, the Marines might let me choose, when the day comes."

Next thing Shanks knew, he was being hauled into the air, and backed into a nearby wall, eye to eye with his first mate, who looked alarmingly angry. "_It won't happen to you._"

"Happens to the best of us," Shanks replied, calm in the face of his first mate's anger. "It _happened _to the best of us. It happened to my captain." He looked heartbreakingly young suddenly, and it was all Beckman could do to keep from folding the younger man into his arms and just keep him safe.

"It won't happen to mine," he settled for growling protectively. "I won't let it happen. _You _can't let it happen." He locked gazes with his captain, knowing that Shanks would understand the unspoken plea. _For your sake. For _my_ sake. For the sake of the crew that calls you captain._

Shanks stared at him wide-eyed for a moment, then burst into sudden, raucous laughter.

"What's so funny?" Beckman demanded, wary of the sea-change in his captain's mood.

"Who's being illogical now, Benny? The life of a pirate's lived on the edge of a blade. I can't promise you anything of the sort. East Blue making you forget that?"

Beckman stared at his captain, taken aback. How many times in this last year and a half had he sighed over his captain's youthful antics? Tut-tutted at his carefree ways? Imagined himself to be carrying the weight of the whole crew on his shoulders, never sensing that Shanks was carrying such a burden himself? Only now did he realise how perilously close he'd come to forgetting why he'd chosen to follow the man in the first place.

And now he'd continue to follow him, to the very end of the world. And bear as much of that burden as Shanks would let him, put up with the most childish of antics, anything to see that carefree, joyous smile back on his captain's face.

But first...

"If you can't promise me that, then at least promise me you'll do what your captain did," Beckman said firmly.

Shanks looked up at him in surprise, arched eyebrow over a triply-scarred eye inviting him to elaborate.

"Gol D Roger didn't live his life in vain. He inspired a whole age. At least do the same."

Shanks smiled wistfully. "I doubt I could inspire a whole age."

"Cap'n..."

"One kid," Shanks interrupted. "If I could inspire one kid, the way the captain inspired me..." His voice trailed off as he fingered the brim of his straw hat. Then he looked up at Beckman again, his voice suddenly firm and clear. "One kid'll be enough."

"One kid," Beckman conceded reluctantly.

But that, he decided, had better be some kid.


	14. Redemption, Theme: Price, K

**Title: **Redemption  
**Theme: **Price**  
Words: **736 + 420 (omake)  
**Rating: **K  
**Warnings: **More Benn-adulation.  
**A/N: **The treatment described in this fic is real. It was invented by V. S. Ramachandran and described in the very wonderful book _Phantoms in the Brain_, if you'd like to read more about it.

* * *

It was a rare quiet night for the Red-Haired Pirates, when Shanks was interrupted in his reading – a pastime he rarely indulged in – by his first mate.

"Cap'n, can you come into the infirmary for a moment?"

Shanks looked up from his book, surprised that it was Benn rather than Doc making the request. "What's up, Benn?"

"Just come here," Benn said, a touch impatiently.

Shanks raised an eyebrow. Benn was the soul of patience at most times – he had to be, with the kind of crew he sailed with. "Well, _something _must be up if you're stopping me from reading. You usually tell me I don't do enough of it."

Benn sighed. Why did his captain always _have _to be so contrarian? "_Captain_..."

"All right, all right, I'll come." Shanks put down his book, with a good deal more eagerness than Benn would normally have liked to see, and followed his first mate across the ship to the infirmary.

When they entered the room nothing seemed out of ordinary apart from a large, open box sitting on Doc's desk. "Is _this _what you wanted me to see, Benn?" Shanks asked, a little disappointed that it wasn't a crateful of booze or fireworks or something along those lines. "It's just a box. With a mirror in it. And two holes in the front."

"Never mind that, sit down," Benn directed, "and put your arms through the holes."

Shanks gave Benn a quizzical look. "Aren't you forgetting a little something, Benn?" he asked, pointing with his right hand to the stump of his left.

"Just use your imagination."

"Okay..." Shanks decided to play along. It wasn't wise to cross Benn when he used _that _tone of voice! "All right, they're in. Kind of. What now?"

"You've always said you could still feel that other arm, didn't you?"

"Yeah, it hurts sometimes."

"Does it hurt now?" Benn asked.

"Not really, but it itches a little." It was one of the few blemishes on Shanks' existence. That infernal itch, the price he'd had to pay ever since _that _day. Not that he had ever regretted it.

"Okay. Can you tell where it is, in the box?" Benn asked.

"Yeah, I can kind of see it in my mind," Shanks said, frowning hard as he concentrated hard on the limb that was missing in everything but his mind.

"Good. Now, I want you to look into the box, at the mirror, and move your right hand so that it's in the same position that you think your left hand is in."

"Okay...right, they're kinda in the same place. What now?"

"Try clapping your hands."

"I keep telling you, I only have one – hey!" Shanks' mouth formed an "o" of surprise. "Benn! I have two arms! They're both moving!"

Benn smiled triumphantly. "Okay, now tell me where the itch is, on your phantom arm."

"About halfway between my wrist and elbow."

"Here?" Benn scratched the indicated spot on Shanks' right arm.

"Up a bit...left a bit...no, I meant right a bit..._there_. Ahhhh, that feels so good," Shanks sighed, as the phantom itch that had been plaguing him for so many years was finally scratched away. "Benn, you're a _genius! _Did you invent this?"

"Yeah, I invented it."

"How did you figure it out?"

Benn picked up a book, a thick medical tome on the workings of the human brain. "I _read_," he said dryly.

Shanks grinned up at Benn, completely unabashed. "I'm glad one of us does!" His grin turned abruptly into a frown. "Hey! My other arm disappeared!"

"You have to be looking at the mirror for it to work," Benn said, physically turning Shanks' head back down to the box.

"Oh yeah! It's back!" Shanks exclaimed in delight.

"It won't work unless you're using the box correctly. It's only temporary relief, I know, but..."

"It's _awesome, _Benn! Thanks! I'm gonna go show this to the rest of the crew!" Shanks took his arm out of the box, bundled it under his one remaining arm, and rushed out, calling excitedly to the others.

Benn watched him go, a small smile spreading across his face. He couldn't give his captain his arm back, but if he could lessen the price Shanks had had to pay, even for a moment, all the years of research had been well worth it.

* * *

**Omake?**

"Okay, everyone, gather around!" Shanks announced, waving a thin booklet with a blue cover on it.

"What's that, cap'n? A book? You gonna read to us or something?" Yasopp asked skeptically. Like most of the crew, Shanks was far from an avid reader.

"Yes, I am going to read it to you, but it's not a book, it's Benn's paper! It's just been published in the –" Shanks paused as he consulted the title – "Drum Journal of Practical Neurology!"

"Since when did Benny publish a paper? What's it about?"

"It's about that box thing I showed you guys a few months ago!"

"Uh, that's okay, cap'n, you don't have to read it out to the whole crew, it's kinda boring," Benn said, reaching for the journal.

For a one-armed man, Shanks defended the volume against Benn most capably. "Of _course _it's not boring, Benn, _you _wrote it!" Shanks looked every inch the proud parent insisting on reading out a poem his child had written at school. "Now sit down, everybody, and listen!"

The crew settled down with a great deal of grumbling, which lessened markedly when somebody surreptitiously opened up a crate of beer and began handing it out.

Shanks perched himself on a barrel and set the journal down on his lap. He cleared his throat and read, "Mirror-induced pruritus relief in a phantom limb, by B. Beckman." The crew exchanged glances. "Pruri-what?" someone asked, very loudly.

Benn sighed.

Shanks glared at the interrupter and ploughed onwards bravely, describing the experiences of "Patient S" and his response to the box. The rest of the crew rapidly went to sleep, or drowned their boredom in beer, in reaction to Benn's rather pedantic prose style.

"In _conclusion_," - everyone perked up at the word - "while promising, this treatment of method requires a broader research study to validate its feasibility with more subjects than this study had available, to rule out specific traits of the subject to which the success of this experiment may be ascribed, such as the inherent simplicity of the Patient S's thought processes."

Shanks flipped the journal shut and beamed around at them proudly. The crew exchanged glances. Lucky Roo began to snigger.

"What's so funny?" Shanks frowned. "Did I read something wrong?"

"Cap'n, you know you're Patient S, right?" Yasopp asked.

"Yeah."

"So read the last line again."

Shanks picked up the journal and read it again.

"Oi! Benn! Who the hell are you calling s_imple-minded_?"

But Benn had already gotten far, far away.

* * *

**A/N: **I actually sat on this for a year trying to make it funnier but finally decided to put this up anyway. Either way, let me know what you think! ^^


	15. Swordsman to Swordsman, Th: Sword, Kplus

**Title: **Swordsman to swordsman  
**Theme: **Sword  
**Claim: **Shanks  
**Words: **5216  
**Rating: **K+  
**Warnings: **Some blood. Possibly one-sided Perona-Zoro. Spoilers for the beginning of the post-timeskip arc.  
**Characters: **Shanks, Beckman, Mihawk, Zoro, Perona, Rayleigh, Shakky  
**Disclaimer(s): **I do not own One Piece. Besides the characters and setting, there are also a couple of lines included here that are lifted from the manga/anime, for continuity's sake - they don't belong to me either.

* * *

"Geez, Zoro, you're no fun at _all_!"

Zoro barely spared Perona an annoyed glance. She ought to know better by now. "Go away, witch, you can see I'm practising," he grunted, the epithet slipping out well-worn, familiar, as if he'd been talking to Nami or Robin. And no wonder - he'd spent more time now with Perona than he had with Luffy, even. Two years, minus a month. It had felt like an eternity, and yet he had to wonder where the time had gone.

His apprenticeship with Mihawk had already come to an end, a week ago. "I've taught you all I intend to teach you," the older swordsman had curtly informed him. That he had kept some ultimate skill in reserve for their eventual duel, was left unsaid. Which was why Zoro was determined to extend the last skill Mihawk had taught him to Santoryuu style before he left the island, to show him that he was going to continue to learn, to innovate, to show him that the sword-stroke that would one day sever Mihawk's claim to the title of greatest swordsman would come not from a borrowed skill, but would be entirely, wholly Roronoa Zoro's.

"But there are visitors at the castle!" Perona persisted. "And they're not Marines, either! Don't you want to know what's going on?"

Sandai hummed in angry protest when he paused mid-swing. "My crew?" Maybe someone had come by to pick him up for the return to Sabaõdy...

Perona pondered. "No, I didn't recognise them."

"Then I'm not interested." Zoro returned to his experimental katas.

"You wanna get hit with a Hollow?" Perona threatened.

Zoro made a dismissive noise in his throat. "You don't need me to spy on them. Just go through a wall or something."

"Don't tell me what to do! Negative Nerve-shatt-"

"Roronoa, Perona, stop quarrelling." Perona's incantation was interrupted by the commanding voice of Mihawk. He was just coming into view, threading through the trees towards them. Perona subsided into disgruntled murmurs, which ceased altogether with a sharp look from the World's Greatest Swordsman as he stepped into the clearing. He wasn't alone. "Roronoa, you have a visitor," Mihawk announced.

A visitor for _him_? Zoro cast a quick, appraising glance at the man by Mihawk's side. Weapon: sabre, hanging at waist, worn on the right. Right arm: slung around Mihawk's shoulder. Slung – around – Mihawk's – shoulder. Left arm: none. Scars: three across left eye. Expression: cheerful grin. Mihawk's expression: barely tolerant. Summary: dangerous as hell.

"So you're Roronoa Zoro," the man was hailing him chirpily, disengaging his arm from around Mihawk. "I've been wanting to meet Luffy's first mate."

"You know Luffy?" Zoro asked, a smile coming to his face at the sound of that name.

The man seemed to find his question hilarious. "Do I know Luffy!" he guffawed.

"_This _is Shanks," Mihawk introduced him, looking rigidly disapproving at the man's lack of manners. "One of the three Yonkou. He has an offer to make you."

"Offer? What offer?" Zoro asked immediately, as he racked his brains for why the man's name sounded so familiar.

"I'm here on behalf of Silvers Rayleigh," Shanks announced. The name of the old first mate of the Roger Pirates triggered the connection. Shanks – the man who had given Luffy his straw hat. Who had been one of Gold Roger's crew and made him the Pirate King. "He'd like to pass on a certain sword technique to you. He would have come himself, but I'm afraid your captain's worn him out, rather." He grinned at Zoro's look of confusion, but then his expression turned serious. "This isn't an offer that's made lightly, nor should you accept it too readily. It's not a skill that will make you the World's Greatest Swordsman, merely one that your crew may find useful in future. And it is not easily learned. You could lose your life trying to master it."

"I think you sold him with that last sentence," Mihawk said to Shanks.

His expression must have betrayed just a touch too much enthusiasm.

"But why me?" Zoro asked. Swordmasters didn't go around offering to teach their most secret sword skills to any random swordsman. And Silvers Rayleigh knew him only as the weakling who had fallen before Admiral Kizaru, too weary to lift a sword or even a finger to save himself.

"Ask Rayleigh-san that when you get back to Sabaõdy. _If _you get back."

"But..." Zoro hesitated, shooting a look at Mihawk. The rigid code of swordsmanship dictated that the master had absolute control over the training of the apprentice, and though he was nominally no longer under Mihawk's tutelage, neither could he presume to the role of guest. Mihawk could make him refuse Shanks' offer, no matter how badly he wanted to learn a new technique.

Mihawk caught the look and snorted. "Do you think I would have let him make the offer if I hadn't agreed? I've taught you all I intend to teach you. Go ahead and get yourself killed if you so desire. Come, Perona. We'll leave them to it."

"But he hasn't even accepted yet! Besides, you didn't introduce me! This is the first visitor we've had in two years that you haven't made me hide from, and I don't even get an intro..."

"Ah, by your leave, Hawkeye." Mihawk turned, and Perona with him.

"I'd like to borrow Miss Perona for a moment," Shanks said, nodding towards the witch.

"Eh? I'm not something that can be borrowed!" Perona protested, her ghosts making angry faces at Shanks.

Mihawk's eyes narrowed for a moment at the pirate's request, then relaxed again in understanding. "Of course. You'll be needing a scapegoat, won't you?"

"A scapegoat? What are you going to _do _to me?"

"Perona, stay here. Roronoa..."

Zoro nodded. "I'll look after her." Mihawk acknowledged the nod and left without a further word.

"Sounds like you know each other pretty well by now," Shanks said, amused eyes following Mihawk out of the grove. "I've always wondered what kind of teacher Hawkeye would make."

"Try me and see," Zoro challenged, shrugging off the shoulders of his robe, letting the folds gather round his waist.

Shanks grinned back and unsheathed his sabre. "You know, I rather think I will."

* * *

Mihawk returned to the castle and the refuge of his library to find that Benn Beckman had already made himself at home in his absence. Beckman had dragged the only comfortable chair – _his _chair – into what light passed through the thick, ancient windows, and sat there leafing through a book taken from _his _shelves, long legs propped up on the ottoman.

Beckman looked up when Mihawk entered. "He accepted, then," he observed in lieu of a word of welcome.

"Was there ever any doubt?" Mihawk crossed the room to the chair that Roronoa claimed on his infrequent visits – usually made under extreme duress – to this room. Despite Beckman's unfortunate choice of captain and his own propensity to look down on the rest of the world, he liked the man. Beckman was a well-bred, courteous fellow – save when in another man's library. He possessed an O Wazamono-grade mind, which made him a fount of interesting conversation. And when they had exhausted the wellspring of scholarship, there was always Shanks' latest shenanigan to commiserate over.

"I suppose not," Beckman agreed. "You didn't stay to watch?"

"I have no interest in a skill that serves only to protect others." Mihawk was staring at what looked like space, but was in fact a particular spot on the carpet where a brash young man had once knelt before him, begging to be made stronger. _But _he_ would._

A thunderous, metallic clash ripped through the air, sending a shudder through the castle's stone walls. Mihawk frowned.

"I _did _make it clear to Shanks what would happen if he lost me another rival, did I not?" he asked.

"Repeatedly," Beckman said, a smile etching its way across his care-lined face. "But something tells me I should be more worried for my captain."

"One way or another, you should be," Mihawk said grimly.

* * *

"That's _all_?"

Shanks chuckled at the barely-concealed note of petulance in Zoro's voice. The kid's blood must be up, after so many months of endless training without the thrill of a real duel to interrupt it. "Yes, that's enough. I can see now where Hawkeye got all those white hairs from," he joked, but the smile he gave Zoro was approving. The lad was absolutely fearless, which was just what he needed.

"You're not so bad yourself," Zoro returned the compliment. There was a look of respect in the younger man's eyes now. Obviously he was beginning to understand just how dangerous a Yonkou could be. He would need that knowledge in the New World, Shanks reflected. Kaidou would be painting a giant target on the Strawhats the instant they entered his territory. "So who cut off your arm?"

"Can someone tell me what I'm doing here?" the pink-haired girl cut in, before Shanks could decide just how to respond to _that _question. The pout on her face was mirrored on those ghosts behind her. Benn would know what Devil's Fruit that was.

"You have the most important role in our play, Miss Perona," Shanks said, with his usual air of gallantry. "Would you mind coming down to the ground for a moment? I shouldn't like for you to get hurt."

The glance she gave him was filled with suspicion, understandably enough, but she approached him all the same. Behind her, Zoro had relaxed his posture, but his katana remained at the ready all the same, eyes fixed on Shanks.

Shanks dug into his pocket and pulled out the handy chunk of seastone he carried around for emergencies. "Take this, please, and hold onto it."

Perona reached out and took the stone. Her ghosts disappeared in an instant, and she thumped down onto the ground rather heavily. "Seastone!" she gasped, and made as if to drop it, but Shanks quickly closed his fist over hers.

"It'll only be a few minutes. I'm sorry to inconvenience you, but it does help to have a 'victim' who can actually be cut by a sword. When Rayleigh-san taught me this move, we used Buggy, and it took forever for us – well, me – to get serious."

"I don't need any help getting serious," Zoro said, his frown deepening still further.

Really, he was too much like Benn.

"Maybe not," Shanks agreed. "But this is how this move has always been handed down. So, if you wouldn't mind attacking Miss Perona..."

"What!" the girl shrieked. "Zoro would never..."

"Don't worry, I'll be protecting you. You _do _want to help Zoro learn this move, don't you?" Before she could answer yes or no, Shanks took up his position in front of her. "Be sure to watch carefully," he told his student. "You have only two chances to get this right."

"Two chances?" Zoro scoffed. "Aren't you supposed to say I only have _one _chance?"

"You have two eyes," Shanks pointed out, and saw them widen in startled understanding. "Now" - he took a deep breath – "come."

The young man's expression changed again, this time to resolution. His jaw snapped shut around the katana between his teeth, and he sprang forward in attack. Shanks readied his sabre.

* * *

The second clash of swords came as something of a relief. The tension in the room – and in Mihawk's shoulders – had become almost unbearable. But Beckman had acquired plenty of experience dealing with difficult swordsmen, not least Mihawk himself, over the years, and wasn't fazed by the black aura that clouded the library.

Nor was he overly worried about Mihawk's warning, though he knew it was serious. Mihawk wasn't one to indulge in idle threats, and Beckman still remembered his reaction from more than ten years ago upon noticing Shanks' newly-empty sleeve. He'd taken the loss of Shanks' arm worse than Shanks himself.

Beckman had been mildly concerned about one thing: that this would be the first time Shanks had ever attempted to transmit this skill to someone else. He occasionally tutored some of their crewmen in the art of the sword, but never this particular one. Shanks saw defending the crew as his responsibility, and he would never delegate it to someone else. Especially where swords were involved.

Shanks, predictably, hadn't shared his concern. "He'll get it, don't worry," he had said in his usual insouciant manner, when Beckman raised the question.

"Is that confidence in Mihawk's teaching I spy?"

"Haha. Actually, it's not a matter of sword skill at all," his captain had explained. "It's all about self-control. You need to have mastered your body's involuntary reactions, so you can keep your eyes open even while a sword's coming straight at them, until the very, very last moment, and maybe not even then."

"And what makes you think he has that capability?"

"If you can walk into a giant ball of pain when every muscle in your body is screaming at you not to..." Shanks' voice trailed off into a shrug. "Besides, he's the only one Hawkeye's ever acknowledged since..." Another one-armed shrug. "He'll get it," Shanks concluded, with an air of finality, and Beckman hadn't questioned him further.

* * *

"Well? Did you see it?" Shanks asked, shouting to be heard over Perona's high-pitched babbling. Something about them both being idiots, and how she was so going to hit them with the biggest hollow ever...

"Yeah, I saw it," Zoro answered, sheathing his swords. He felt giddy, almost exultant at having met Shanks' challenge. Or maybe it was just the blood loss. He put out his tongue and gave an experimental lick. The steely tang confirmed what the pain was telling him – that was going to be some scar. He grinned. "This how you got those?" He pointed to the three across Shanks' left eye.

Shanks put a hand to his eye. "Only one of them," he answered. "The person who gave me the others was kind enough to make them parallel." He spoke as if it was a joke, but there was a grim undertone to his voice, and Zoro knew that whoever had done that would someday be hunted down.

"Exchange places?" Zoro offered.

"Of course," Shanks said. "I want to see how much you've learned."

"You're going to fight _again?_" Perona screeched. "Are you crazy? Zoro's _hurt_!"

"'S nothing," Zoro said dismissively. "Just get down behind me, and keep quiet."

"What? What if you – wait, what if _I _get killed?"

"I'll protect you. I promised, didn't I?"

Perona stared at him for a moment, then flounced down behind him. "Fine. But I'm sending my ghosts back to haunt you if you let me get killed!"

Zoro smirked, then turned back to face his opponent, mentally rehearsing the intricate sequence of movements he'd just seen for the first time. "So what's the name of this move, anyway?"

"It's an ancient sword style from the country of Wano," Shanks answered. "Paladin's Shield, they called it there."

"Paladin's Shield," Zoro repeated to himself. He laid a hand on the hilts of his katana, considering for a moment before drawing Shuusui.

"Ready?" Shanks asked. His own sword was back in its sheath, but he had a finger hooked under the hilt, ready to draw and strike in one fluid, powerful movement.

Zoro took a deep breath, nodded, and let Shuusui dance.

* * *

"Ready?" the nasty red-haired swordsman asked.

Zoro gave a barely perceptible nod, and almost immediately Perona was engulfed in a wave of – she didn't know what it was, but it was drowning her, sending her to the bottom of an ocean of fear, from which there was no escape.

She let out a squeak of horror, too overwhelmed to even cry out. It was cold here, so cold...one tiny corner of her mind was desperately trying to reason that this was just the sort of thing she was supposed to _like_, but it was just too much.

This was what death felt like. She was going to die here, die at the hands of that nasty swordsman, and so would Zoro, and what had Mihawk been thinking, letting that man come here and kill them all...

That was when the second wave hit her, warm and welcoming. She gasped for air as if she'd just broken the surface, and found herself staring at Zoro's broad, unscarred back, the very picture of strength. His arms were a whirl of motion, weaving a protective cocoon around her.

How could she have been so stupid? He'd promised. "I'll look after her," he'd said. Zoro might be an idiot, but at least he was a reliable idiot.

Funny how up until now, she hadn't realised just how lucky the Strawhats were.

Or how much she was going to miss him.

All at once, it was over, and he was looking down at her, a faint air of concern in his eye. The one that didn't have blood all over it. "Oi. You okay?" he asked gruffly.

"No, I am not okay! That was so _scary_!"

Zoro mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "taste of your own medicine".

"What did you say?" she demanded.

"Well, what did you expect?" he shrugged. "You were being attacked by a powerful swordsman."

"I'm sorry if I startled you, Miss Perona," the nasty swordsman said apologetically. Perona noted with satisfaction that he was bleeding from the arm – though nowhere near enough, to make up for what he'd done to Zoro or to her.

"Sorry doesn't even begin to cover it! I'll teach you what it's like to feel sorry! Horo horo hollow!" she bellowed.

There was an anticlimactic moment of silence. No ghosts appeared. The swordsmen stared at her in confusion.

Then she realised why.

She'd totally forgotten to let go of the seastone.

* * *

"An _eye_." Ever since Shanks, Zoro and that pink-haired girl had returned to the castle, the barrier of ice that shielded Dracule Mihawk's emotions from the surface had begun to crack. Now it looked like it was set to shatter into a thousand tiny pieces. "You took his _eye_."

"I'm sorry I was ever born," Shanks sobbed.

The Hollow-Hollow Fruit, Beckman concluded with a sigh, looking down at the sad sight of his captain. Saving haki for emergencies he could understand, but surely maintaining one's dignity was a _shade _more important.

"If I'm ever reincarnated, I wanna be reborn as a gnat," Shanks added. Of course, his captain had never been very big on the concept of dignity.

"Perona, let him speak for himself!" Mihawk said, fists clenched.

"But he deserves it! They _both _deserve it!" Perona protested.

"I wanna be reborn as a fungus," Beckman's patient piped up from the bed he'd been forcibly consigned to.

"Hush, and let me see that eye," Beckman said.

The haki – or maybe it was just Shanks' usual ebullience – finally seemed to be reasserting itself. Shanks shook off his despondent air and got to his feet. But the usual carefree smile was gone as he faced Mihawk.

"_Well_?" Mihawk demanded.

Shanks remained silent. There was nothing he _could _say, Beckman knew. He couldn't apologise for not restraining himself against the lad - the code of the swordsman precluded that.

That same damn idiotic code that dictated that Mihawk couldn't fight against a one-armed man. Or, it seemed, a one-eyed one.

"Can't he just tie one hand behind his back and fight the cap'n anyway?" Lucky Roo had once asked during that fateful meeting, when Mihawk first realised what he and Shanks had just lost. He'd been promptly blasted with a wave of sword ki for his pains. Beckman knew the offer of an eyepatch would be equally unwelcome now.

Honestly, these swordsmen were all idiots.

"It mayn't be as bad as all that," he contributed, concluding his examination. Everyone turned their attention to him. "It's mostly a surface wound. The eyeball's intact. But the levator palpebrae superioris was severed...that's the muscle that controls the raising of the eyelid," he explained, seeing their lost looks. "But it isn't necessarily permanent. A skilled surgeon may be able to correct it."

His assessment didn't seem to mollify Mihawk. "And if it can't be corrected?" he asked coldly.

"Then nothing." Zoro pushed Beckman's hand aside and sat up. "This changes nothing."

"It changes _everything_," Mihawk snapped. "I'm not going to fight a cripple."

"You heard him," Zoro said confidently. "Chopper'll fix it. And if he can't fix it, Franky'll do something about it. And even if they can't do anything about it..." Zoro fixed a gaze on Mihawk so piercing, the older swordsman was probably lucky it came from only one eye. "You're not getting away without fighting me so easily."

"But..." It was the first time Beckman had ever seen Mihawk hesitate.

"The only way you're getting out of fighting me is if I'm _dead_," Zoro told him flatly. "I've made too many promises to too many people to lose to an eye."

There was a long silence. Then the faintest suggestion of a smile appeared in Mihawk's pale eyes. "Ah yes, of course. The Pirate King would be in trouble without the World's Greatest Swordsman by his side, wouldn't he?"

Zoro grinned suddenly. "Damn straight."

And they believe he'll do it, too, Beckman realised, looking from Mihawk to Shanks, marvelling at the young man's infectious self-confidence.

"Well! Sounds like it's time for a party!" Shanks announced cheerily.

Mihawk turned his glare back on Shanks. "Don't think you're off the hook yet. We still have a score to settle."

"I know, I know," Shanks said. "But don't worry, I brought loads of booze. C'mon, you can help me carry it."

"That's not what I – I am _not _going to be your pack-mule!" Mihawk hissed through clenched teeth.

Ah, they were back to normal once more.

"Hey, you want the booze or not? I'm a bit injured here, if you haven't noticed." Shanks waved his bloody arm.

Speaking of which... "Cap'n, let me see that before you do anything rash," Beckman said.

"It's fine, Benn! Hawkeye here will be doing most of the carrying, anyway, seeing as he has _two whole arms_. Eh, Dracule?" Shanks nudged Mihawk in the ribs.

"Why, you..." Mihawk paused, a grin that Beckman could only call malicious spreading across his face. "Very well, but we'll have Perona come along and fix you up along the way. She has acquired quite a talent in the past two years for bandaging up wounds."

"I'll be happy to, horo horo horo!" the girl chortled, grabbing Beckman's spare roll of bandage and flying over to Shanks. From his own patient's reflexive wince, Beckman guessed that this was an event best left unexperienced.

So did Shanks, who turned tail and ran. "Hawkeye, race you to the docks! Last one there is a rotten Devil's Fruit!"

"I am not playing such a childish game," Mihawk responded, but his lope was slightly less than dignified as he hurried after Shanks.

"Hey, wait for me! You're not getting away from these bandages! Horo horo horo!" Perona floated after the two swordsmen.

Zoro followed their messy exit from the room with his good eye. "So that's where Luffy gets it from," he murmured.

"I am _so _sorry," Beckman said, and meant it.

"'S okay." Zoro slumped back into the pillows with a sigh, but a faint smile was tugging at his lips. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

"I've developed some stratagems for dealing with crazy captains over the years that I could share with you," Beckman offered. "Might save you a few grey hairs."

Zoro turned to eye him quizzically, and for a moment Beckman saw a flicker of the boy in this solemn, serious young man. "No offence, ossan, but you don't exactly look like an authority on the subject."

"Impertinent youngster," Beckman growled comfortably. "Well, here's my first piece of advice, whether you want it or not. First of all, you need a hobby. Something nice and quiet. Something like fishing..."

* * *

Shanks stood on the deck of the small boat, enjoying the feeling of the waves beneath his feet for the first time in more than a week.

"We're ready to leave, cap'n," Benn reported, coming up next to him, wiping his hands on a greasy cloth.

"Yeah, but they're not," Shanks replied, nodding towards where Hawkeye, Perona and Zoro were making their farewells.

"If we don't leave soon, we won't catch the tide," Benn clucked, ever the mother hen. He was clearly itching to get back to their crew. Through their efficient communications network, they'd had frequent updates from Yasopp assuring them that all was going well and that the Red-Haired Pirates were having a great time without them. But they were ready to go home.

"Don't you think he'll be rather too early for their reunion?" Benn asked.

Shanks shrugged. "Beats setting sail in a coffin." The sound of three swords slicing through the air caught his attention, and he watched for a while as the young swordsman performed one last demonstration for his old friend. He thought he recognised the essence of that move. "He's surpassed me, you know," he commented to his first mate.

"What, the lad?" Benn's tone was disbelieving.

"As a swordsman."

"Maybe in Mihawk's view, but in objective terms..."

"Oh, I may have more tricks up my sleeve, but he was the one who persuaded Dracule that it wouldn't be beneath his pride to fight a crippled man," Shanks said, slightly wistfully.

"A one-eyed man is very different from a one-armed man," Benn said with asperity, "and besides, you might've persuaded him if you'd tried. You just never cared enough for the title. You never were interested in swordsmanship for the sake of swordsmanship. Just as Mihawk's never been interested in swordsmanship for the sake of protecting others."

Shanks laughed. "That's just it, Benn. But that young man over there? He cares about both. And that's why he'll become greater than either of us, someday."

Benn relaxed at that. "Well, I can't deny that Zoro probably saved your life back there," he remarked dryly.

"Aye, that he did," Shanks chuckled.

"Though if Mihawk ever finds out that Silvers Rayleigh _didn't _send you here to teach Zoro, not even he would be able to save you then."

"Which is why neither of us is ever going to tell him," Shanks grinned.

"Here they come," Benn said suddenly, and Shanks turned to see the trio walking towards the boat. Zoro and Perona appeared to be arguing hotly about something.

"I'm coming with you! I know how you are with directions! You'll get lost without me!" Perona was saying, in an insistent tone.

"I'm not bad with directions, it's the scenery that keeps moving! Besides, Shanks and Beckman are going to be with me," Zoro argued in response.

"Only part of the way, they said, and _then _how're you going to find Sabaõdy?"

"I have that Vivrecard thing, remember? All I have to do is follow it!"

"You've gotten lost following the path from the beach to the castle which, I'd like to add, is practically a _straight line_! Don't you dare deny it, I've seen you do it thousands of times..." Perona lectured a very red-faced Zoro. She whirled around to face Shanks, recognising that he had the final say. "I get to come, don't I?" she asked.

There was a threatening tone if he'd ever heard one – and yet there was a pleading note to it too. Shanks remembered the episode with the bandages, and decided against denying Perona her will. "Have teddy-bear, will travel. Welcome aboard."

Perona stuck her tongue out at Zoro and marched onto the boat.

"Can we set sail now?" Benn asked plaintively.

Zoro took one step onto the boat, then seemed to remember something. He turned to Mihawk and made a deep obeisance. "I'll be back one day," he promised, "in my strongest form."

"I look forward to it, Roronoa Zoro."

"Ooh, remember to invite me too! I wanna watch!" Shanks said.

Dracule rolled his eyes in response, put a boot to the prow and shoved them into the water. Benn got busy with the oars, and Zoro scrambled forward to give him a hand.

"Bye, Hawkeye!" Shanks waved energetically. "Stop by for another party when you have the chance!"

The swordsman raised a hand in farewell. Shanks watched for a while as his friend's figure receded into the distance, looking lonelier by the second, and suddenly found himself hoping the promised day would come soon, when Dracule would be set free of the isolation of his title.

Perona's complaining voice intruded onto his thoughts. "We're not going to _row _all the way to Sabaõdy, are we? We're moving so slowly, this is gonna take forever!"

Shanks and Benn exchanged glances, Benn's glare saying something like "well, _you're _the one who let her come on board."

Shanks chuckled to himself as he gazed out over the prow at the horizon. Looked like this was going to be a fun voyage.

* * *

The door to Shakky's Rip-off Bar swung open.

Rayleigh recognised the aura even before Shakky's mouth made that little "o" of surprise. "You're the first to arrive," he informed Luffy's swordsman, turning on his bar stool to look at the newcomer, a hulking silhouette in the doorway, three katana in sharp outline against the sun.

"What, nobody's arrived yet? They never change." Roronoa Zoro shook his head, his voice tinged with dry amusement.

"Good timing, though," Rayleigh began, an old resolution coming to mind. Then Zoro stepped closer and out of the light, and Rayleigh noticed with some surprise the scar that ran across the young man's eye, twin to his own. The skin was still puffy around the edges of the wound, so it was only a few days old, but it was healing fast, and soon it would look as if it had been there always.

A scar of that kind could be obtained in any number of ways, but Rayleigh had seen enough of the world not to believe in coincidences. "I see you've met Shanks," he said.

"Yeah," Zoro replied. "He taught me a lot."

Rayleigh smiled at the audacity – and foresight – of his former pupil. "Then he's saved an old man a lot of trouble."

"Rayleigh-san..." Zoro pulled himself to his full height, like a Marine recruit reporting for duty, and fingered the hilt of his white katana like a talisman. "I'm ready for the New World now."

"Yes," Rayleigh nodded, "I daresay you are."

* * *

**Omake**

"So, lemme get this straight." Zoro intercepted the mug of sake Shakky had slid over the counter. "Rayleigh-san was first mate of Gold Roger, and Gold Roger had the Hat."

"That's right," Shakky confirmed.

Zoro took a long draught before continuing. "And Benn Beckman is first mate of Shanks, and Shanks had the Hat."

"Yes, and now Monkey-chan has the Hat, and you're his first mate," Shakky said, wondering why Zoro-chan was running his hand through his hair with such a vexed expression. "Oh? Where are you going, all of a sudden?"

"Fishing."

* * *

**A/N: **Thought it was better to get this out now before the real story behind Zoro's eye is revealed. :-)

That's all I have for now! Feedback of any kind, including concrit, is very welcome.


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